Eventually,
the smell of food teases my stomach,
and I know I will have to beg
to be released from the closet,
but I also know I won't be fed for free.
It's like I became locked
inside a watch upon your wrist,
and you have complete control
of every second you choose to let me live.
I am convinced you are a force from above,
something who has more powers
than anyone else in the world,
and I think I've waited too long
to challenge this terrifying belief,
because I know they will only lock me away
if I talk about it.
And no matter how much
my stomach cramps and growls,
I know I will not beg for food,
for I know the drastic consequences
I will receive.
So I will starve,
here in this small, dark closet,
where it is almost safe to cry,
because you can't hear my tears
as they silently soak into my cheeks -
leaving no evidence of broken rules
like crying without permission.
